


Last Serving Daughter

by Suzelle



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:32:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzelle/pseuds/Suzelle
Summary: “There’s notimeto take this before the council.” Andor pounds a fist into his hand. “The Empire has this weapon now, it’s only a matter of time before they destroy a full planet…”A full planet, she echoes silently, and cold dread washes over her. She’d heard the rumors, both through her work in the Senate and in brief meetings with Captain Andor, but she can barely comprehend the reality of it.Rogue One through Leia's eyes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to Salvage, both for the beta and for sending me screenshots of the novelization so I could get some timeline stuff right.

The first thing Leia notices on her return to Yavin is a rather large Imperial shuttle docked between Blue Squadron and the _Profundity_. She’s filled with a temporary panic, wondering what sort of ruinous compromise the more moderate members of the Alliance had brought down on them now, before she comes to her senses and realizes it must have been stolen. The thought fills her with satisfaction, and she makes a mental note to find and congratulate whichever of Andor’s people did the deed. The more spies they can sneak past the Imperials, the better.

She’s exhausted from her mission to Ralltiir, having narrowly escaped discovery by Lord Vader, but scuttlebutt from Captain Antilles’ men had only just preceded her father’s brief message, which stated only that vital intelligence had reached the Alliance and that she was to find him as soon as possible.

There’s little privacy to be had in the cavernous, chaotic melee that formed Alliance headquarters, but there’s a small briefing room for intelligence officers closed off from the main war room. It’s here that Leia finds Bail Organa and Mon Mothma standing silent between General Draven and Cassian Andor, who are each one decibel below shouting.

“There’s no _time_ to take this before the council.” Andor pounds a fist into his hand. “The Empire has this weapon _now_ , it’s only a matter of time before they destroy a full planet…”

_A full planet,_ she echoes silently, and cold dread washes over her. She’d heard the rumors, both through her work in the Senate and in brief meetings with Captain Andor, but she can barely comprehend the reality of it.

“I’m not sending more soldiers to die on the word of Erso’s child. You’ve given us shoddy intelligence, not worth—“

“On your orders,” Andor growls. “And if we waste time now, it’ll be too late to make things right.”

General Draven steps around Bail, all but spitting in Andor’s face. “If you think—“

“ _Quiet_ ,” Mon Mothma barks, and Leia blinks rapidly in surprise. She’s never heard the composed senator take that tone with anyone before. “Covert orders given without consensus is how Galen Erso died in the first place.” She glares fiercely at General Draven before she turns back to Andor. “This matter is of too great importance to be decided upon in back rooms. Jyn will present her information to the council, and we will decide what to do then.”  

Andor looks like he wants to argue further, but he only gives a brief, terse nod before he strides out of the briefing room, brushing past Leia without so much as a second glance. Draven and Mothma soon follow, and only Bail remains. The look he gives his daughter causes her stomach to clench tight. To anyone else, her father’s expression would appear carefully composed, but she knows him too well—he’s afraid.

“Well?” he asks. “Did you get all that?”

“Enough of it,” Leia says. “Erso’s dead?”

“But his daughter lives. Jyn. She says he planted a fatal flaw, deep in the battle station, but the entire council must hear her words before we act.”

“You believe her. So do Andor and Mothma, by the looks of it.”

“Galen Erso is not the first to have appeared to comply with the Empire.” A shadow crosses Bail’s face. “But Mon Mothma is right. We cannot deploy a fleet for battle without a consensus.”

Leia thinks of the passivity of some of the council members, their unwillingness to commit to even the most covert acts of rebellion, and understands a bit better Cassian Andor’s rage. “This kind of power in the Empire’s hands…there’s no time for a consensus. And you all know there won’t be one.”  

Bail sighs. “Some days, there are few things that distinguish our methods from the Empire’s. This is one of them.”

Leia believes deeply in the democratic process. One of the greatest disappointments of her senatorial career had been the discovery of just how ineffective her position had become within the Empire. Yet…

“And if our methods cause us to lose?”

Bail shrugs, spreading his hands wide. “If we resort to the ways of the Emperor, have we not already lost?”

It’s a philosophical debate that Leia would have enjoyed at the palace in Aldera, but now, she doesn’t have the patience for it. From Lothal to Ralltiir, she’s seen firsthand the atrocities committed by the Empire, and finds comparison of the Rebellion to them to be basic semantics.  

Of course, she knows better than to say any of this to her father.

“Mon Mothma is calling for the council to meet later this afternoon. I’d like you to meet with General Willard for debriefing during that time.”

Leia knows better than to protest, but the ghost of a smile crosses her face. “You don’t want me in the council room.”

“There will be enough spirited opinions around that table, my dear.” Bail returns her smile and puts an arm around her shoulder in a brief hug. “Erso will do more than enough to plead her case.”

***

Even in the rare moments when they disagree, Leia tries to make a point of honoring her father’s wishes. But after her hurried debriefing with General Willard, she sees no harm in observing council proceedings and trusts herself enough to blend in silently among the large crowd gathered behind the war table. She’s changed from her senatorial gown into a plain jumpsuit, her hair pulled loosely back under a cap, and she hangs back at the edge of the throng, not wanting to draw attention to herself. If she stands on her toes she can see her father’s face on the far end of the war table, and the back of a short woman who is speaking in a low, urgent voice.  


“They don’t believe her,” a soldier beside her mutters in a low voice. “Figures. Blasted thing could be bearing down on us right now and they’d still be debating what to do.”

“You really want to trust some crook with our lives?” another shoots back. “They’ve got a point, up there.”

“If we stopped accepting crooks into the Alliance there’d be none of us left,” the first soldier says with a wry smile. “And Andor believes her. That’s good enough for me.”

“There’s word that he’s outside gathering his people, for when they say no. They’re going to Scarif one way or another—only question is, how many men are going with him.”

“Watch it,” a woman beside him says, with a furtive glance toward Leia. The other two turn to look at her and freeze in horror. She sighs. It would have been too much to hope for to not be recognized.

“By all means, carry on,” she mutters, not taking her eyes off the front of the room. “There’s a reason I’m not up there arguing with the rest of them.” Out of the corner of her eye, she can see that the woman treats her words with careful suspicion, but the rest of them seem to relax.

“They don’t need pilots, do they?” asks a black-haired man in an X-wing jumpsuit. He stands only a few inches taller than Leia, and his Correllian accent makes him sound far more sure of himself than he looks.

“Commandos only,” the first soldier says, and chuckles briefly. “Don’t worry, Antilles, you’ll get your chance to fight. You’ll be damn sick of it by the end of this, if we make it through.”

Ahead of them, the council has broken up, and Leia makes a quick exit through a side corridor before anyone else can catch sight of her. She takes a roundabout sort of way through the back to her quarters, hoping to find Andor and tell him that any resources she has are at his disposal for the mission.

But he’s not in the hangar bay, so she doubles back through the high-ceilinged temple passageways. She sees Jyn Erso coming from the opposite end of the corridor, disappointment and anger barely contained in her expression, walking at such a brisk pace it looks like she might bowl over anyone who stands in her way. She slows as she catches sight of Leia, though, and gives her the sort of wary, suspicious glance that Leia has come to recognize all too well.

Leia is too young to really remember her father’s Senate career in the early days of the Empire, but she’s heard plenty of stories: appearances of submission, public compliance as to avoid being arrested or assassinated as so many of the brasher, more radical senators had been in the first years of Palpatine’s reign. It was all done so that Bail might have the freedom to organize and resist underground, but it made him enemies, and she will never forget the first time she heard an Alderaanian call her father a traitor.

And she knows none of this, not even the most painful of her father’s losses, comes close to measuring up to the sacrifices Galen Erso had endured.

She wants to convey this to Jyn somehow, to tell her how sorry she is for what she’s lost and what the Alliance has done to her, how deeply they all have failed her. But she knows it will be trite coming from her, and so she doesn’t do more than give her a brisk nod when she passes, hoping that she can convey some of this with a small look.

Erso’s face softens briefly, in surprise more than anything, but there’s a recognition in her gaze when she nods back.

***

Leia is in her quarters thumbing through intelligence reports when R2-D2 comes rushing in, trilling excitedly that the stolen Imperial shuttle just made an unsanctioned departure. She smiles at the news, sending a silent blessing up to the stars after Erso and her men, but she chooses to stay in her quarters until she’s sure that General Draven will have cleared the war room. It’s not until hours later that her comlink signals, summoning her to the war room with the news that a ship with the call sign Rogue One has raided Scarif, and Admiral Raddus is mobilizing the fleet to aid them.

She cuts through the hangar bay, where things are moving with the organized chaos that precedes a battle, and she weaves her way through the halls of the old temple until she finds the captain of the _Tantive IV_ , Raymus Antilles. She’d been granted use of the _Tantive IV_ for her mission to Ralltiir, but it had been badly damaged in the firefight that covered their escape, and she hasn’t been updated on the repairs since the day before.

“Captain!” she calls out, and he turns to her with a slight bow. She’s going to need him to stop doing that. “Do you have orders?" 

“None yet, Your Highness. The _Tantive_ is still out of commission, but…”

He trails off and gives a slight nod ahead, and Leia turns to see her father conferring with Mon Mothma at the other end of the hall, before he gives her a slight bow and approaches them both.

"Captain Antilles, Senator, I have a mission for you.” Leia doesn’t miss the way his voice upticks in pride when he says _Senator_ , and her face grows warm with pleasure in spite of herself. “The rest of the fleet is providing support at Scarif, but I want you to take the _Tantive IV_ and set course for Tatooine.”

“In the Outer Rim?” Raymus can’t hide his surprise. “A bit off-course, isn’t it?”

“Most recruitment missions are.” Bail’s mouth quirks in a smile. “I want you to seek out General Kenobi.” 

Now it’s Leia who can’t conceal her astonishment.

“ _Obi-Wan_ Kenobi? The general who—”

“Decorated himself in all matters in the Clone Wars, yes. And was a good friend, too. He’s remained in hiding since the Jedi Purge, and I’ve been reluctant to root him out, but times are desperate.” Bail’s face turned grim. “We’re at war now, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Do you have a location on him? If he’s in hiding, it could take some time before…”

“It’s been years since I’ve had contact with him, but these are the last coordinates I have of his whereabouts.” Bail produces a datapad and hands it to Leia. “How soon can the _Tantive IV_ be ready?”

“The mechanics on the _Profundity_ are working on her, sir. Removing her would take time, time the fleet doesn’t have…”

Bail swears softly, and Leia’s next question dies on her lips. The Alliance is always lacking in starships, especially midsize ones for missions such as these; as it is, the _Tantive IV_ isn’t even officially a part of the fleet, just on loan from the House of Organa.

“If she remained on the ship, they could probably finish the repairs in hyperspace,” Raymus offers. “We can stay with the _Profundity_ and set course once we reach Scarif.”

Bail purses his lips, before he gives a final nod. “All right. As soon as you’re able, you’re to break off from the fleet and fly to Tatooine. If that’s not until the battle is won, so be it.”

“Understood, sir. We’ll be ready to depart with the fleet.” Raymus gives a smart salute and turns on his heel to disappear down the corridor. Leia lingers, sensing her father has more to say to her, and the look he gives her is almost wistful.

“I imagine Master Kenobi will take some convincing, and rightly so. He’s earned what peace he has. Make sure to tell him you are my daughter, and that I would not ask it if—if I thought there was any other choice.”

“I will,” she says. He places his hands on both her shoulders in a gesture of affection, and Leia looks up at him in surprise. One of the first things she learned as a child was the importance of public formality to the House of Organa; she can’t remember a time where her father has broken from that tradition.

“I don’t need to tell you how vital this is, Leia,” he says, his voice soft. His eyes carry the same intensity as they always do when he speaks of Alliance matters, but…there’s something else there, a hint of trepidation and grief that she doesn’t quite understand. “There is no one I trust to do this but you.”

“Of course.” Leia frowns. “Father, is there something else?”

For a moment it looks like he is about to say something, but then he shakes his head and gives her a smile she knows all too well, the smile he gives her mother when he tries to soothe her worry over the extent of his Alliance activity. “It’s nothing. Only matters for Mon Mothma and the council.”

There’s more Leia senses he’s not saying, but she decides not to press it. They can discuss it when she returns to Alderaan. “I won’t fail. You have my word on that.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt.” He squeezes her shoulders and tucks back a strand of hair that had fallen from her braids. “Be safe, won’t you? I’m not looking forward to telling your mother I sent you straight into a war zone.”

“Tell her I’ll make it home in one piece,” she says, and she can’t help but flash him an impish grin. “With Kenobi in tow, whether he likes it or not.”

***

Scarif is agony, and she’s unprepared for how much anxiety can build in her chest just from sitting still. The _Tantive IV_ ’s repairs are finalized soon after the drop from hyperspace, and she waits in the cockpit for clearance to leave, knowing Admiral Raddus likely has other things on his mind. She’s taken part in minor skirmishes on her other missions for the Alliance, but she’s never witnessed a true battle like this before, and her throat constricts each time she sees another X-Wing or Y-Wing wink out in the sky. She longs to be on the deck of the _Profundity,_ issuing commands that might aid the cause, but patience is her mission now. At last, Raddus signals that they’ve received the plans, and Captain Antilles prepares the ship for departure.

But none of it, none of it prepares her for seeing the Death Star drop out of the sky, a moon itself overshadowing the planet, and her heart nearly stops when she sees the laser fire towards Scarif, the blast spreading over a good fourth of the planet. Her mind searches frantically for a chance that the strike team might get out, a ship that might be able to reach them in time, but she read the reports on Jedha. There’s no surviving destruction of that magnitude.

She thinks of Jyn and Cassian, of his terrible droid R2 seemed so fond of, of dozens more commandos whose names she’ll never know. She hears Admiral Raddus faintly over the comms, and echoes her own soft invocation.

_“May the Force be with you, Rogue One._ ” Her eyes fill with tears, but she takes a deep breath and wills them not to fall, to shrink back into herself because they still have a job to do, one that, if her father is to be believed, carries an importance all of its own.

With the Death Star looming, it’s foolish for the _Tantive IV_ to try and jump now; she gives orders to Raymus to wait until the next hyperspace break and make their way to Tatooine then. Even through the hull of her small ship, she can hear the _Profundity_ whine as it begins to make the jump, the stars elongating before her, but she’s suddenly thrown forward in her seat, head nearly smacking against the console in front of her. She can’t see what it is they’ve hit, but some instinctive feeling swoops over her, and she knows. The _Devastator._

“Status!” she barks into the comms, and Raymus answers her. “Star Destroyer bearing down on us. _Profundity’s_ taken heavy damage. We’re taking on as many survivors as we can and we’re going.”

Admiral Raddus’s broken voice can barely be heard over the comms. “ _Tantive IV_ , stand by. The plans are—they’re sending them to—“

The transmission cuts out, and Leia rises convulsively from her chair, willing herself to remember the breathing exercises her mother had taught her so long ago. Captain Antilles is silent over the comms. Around them, the _Profundity_ is dying, and in the distance she can hear blaster fire and screams. At last, she feels the ship move beneath her feet, and the _Tantive IV_ blasts away from the Star Destroyer and the wreck of the _Profundity_. She can’t see behind them to confirm her suspicions of the Star Destroyer, but she can all but feel the rage of Darth Vader.

The _Tantive_ shudders around her, and damage lights blink all over the console _._ The pilot reassures her that they still can make the jump to hyperspace, but it’s small comfort. If the _Devastator_ pursues them, if Vader recognizes her ship, she doesn’t stand a chance. There is no way she’ll be able to talk her way out of this one.

She stares out at the stars and hears footsteps behind her. “Your Highness. The transmission we received…”

Leia turns. Raymus Antilles stands before her, his face the mask of someone who’s trying to hide his fear, and he holds out his hand. There’s a data tape resting between his fingers, and she can feel a slight tremor when she takes it from him. She turns it over once in her hand.

“What is it they’ve sent us?” he asks.

She inhales deeply. The shadows of Jyn and Galen Erso fall on her, the ripples of Scarif and Jedha, and above it all she’s hit with the overwhelming, undeniable truth that all their sacrifices now rest on her. She doesn’t know what to do, or how in the stars she will be able to ferry the plans back to Alderaan in a crippled corvette running from a Star Destroyer. But she is an Organa, and she knows how to bury her fears deep. She remembers her father’s strength, and she smiles.

“Hope.”

 


End file.
